Private Ten Bad Nights in Lasaraleen

[Skeevi Merrill]

Lasaraleen
Tash-Taral
Former Levantine Frontier

Tash-Taral, in Skeevi's eye, was allergic to compassion. Back in Seven Corners, Denon's down-and-out would do you a favor if they could. Times weren't necessarily harder out here, they were just meaner.

Skeevi and a dozen other folks, probably most of them Force-sensitive in some way, worked a sweatshop and not by choice. A long black alchemical chain connected them all by one ankle each. They had benches, some metal files, and terentatek horn. A stone block in the middle of the sweatshop held the item they were supposed to be replicating or, well, imitating: an ocarina. They were free to touch the damn thing. It was supposed to call ghosts.

A human guard in a coat of coins kept watch from the door. He was plenty fine with using his neuronic whip or his scrimshaw hunting knife. Skeevi doubted he knew the Tashai crafting arts. Those who'd worked here longest, though, they'd mumbled how-tos when Skeevi first got here. Sleeping chained by their benches, they'd whispered stories of bond-trackers and water-seekers. Some of those oldtimers were gone already, and Skeevi had only been here days.

The work was hard and rough, filing shapes and patterns into terentatek horn that a guard had hollowed with a boreout drill. Each day's work didn't make for much of an ocarina, musically speaking, but these were curios to sell to Sith tourists at the port. They weren't the real thing like the ocarina on the stone plinth. But Skeevi kept wishing they were.

OOC/ Feel free to be working in the sweatshop, or break it up, or do otherwise, anything you like.

 

[Marcus Dinn]

Slavery wasn't supposed to be on the agenda.

Marcus wasn't entirely sure how he got here. He heard the others in the chain gang whispering about Tashai crafting, which sounded familiar. Perhaps he had stuck his nose somewhere he shouldn't.

The alchemy binding him to the other captives in this sweatshop certainly posed a problem. He needed to get out, but he didn't quite know how. The one silver lining to all this came in the form of the mysterious ocarina. He did the work they demanded of him, letting his hands grow calloused and rough. Some part of him even derived some weird enjoyment from etching the designs—it appealed to his artistic side. But he had his sights set on the artifact. Once he got out of here, he was taking it with him, even if he had to slaughter the lot of them.

And he was getting out of here. All in due time.

Skeevi Merrill​

 

[Brooke Waters]

She knew a few things about a few things. Some of them mattered, some of them didn't. But one thing that Brooke Waters did know was imbued items. She was a Witch of the Blue Coral Diver clan and they had made a lot of their living providing healing for people, but also providing them intricate, and alchemized items to help defend those who need it. When she was hearing through her grapevine that there was something that may interest her on Tash-Taral, she couldn't help but come out and check it out.

The blubreen hybrid was definitely not pleased with the world but with help of her cloak, she was going to keep herself at least incubated, and hydrated. Her skin didn't get too bad, but this world was arid, and she was from oceanic planets. The downside of her cloak, it stuck out a bit, with its blue-green hue.

What called her here was that she was a relatively unknown person, with enough Chandrillan upbringing to make herself seem of money to purchase what was bring created here. Fact finding was why she was here. But she could feel the Force being worked. Maybe the items came from actual honest imbuement, maybe some were of a random chance of a Force sensitive working what they had.

The blonde stepped away from her ship to be greeted by others. Flanked by another Witch and a Jedi Sentinel compliments of her contacts on Kattada.

"Welcome Lady Topol, to Tash-Taral. We have been expecting you." The being, maybe Dathomiri, approached. His voice wiry and dry, flanked by battle droids. "Your knowledge is strong, to bring you to our world, so far from the Core… Let us show you what we have…"

Brooke nodded and pulled up her hood. Her Sentinel and Witch escorts both wore black to her blue-green. The world felt dark, dank, despite the bright sun.

"Please, lead us." She spoke, her Core accent coming out.

Skeevi Merrill Marcus Dinn

 

[Alcuin Rhunn]

Crix wasn't entirely sure how he had wound up on this backwater-forsaken world. One moment he was trudging through existence on Ord Mantell, the next the window of the shop he worked in was blown out, glass slicing through his upraised hands, and several shards killing or wounding customers nearby. The explosion rang his ears and made the world tilt to the left. There was a moment of confused sensory input before the dark took his consciousness in sweet relief. A moment of yelling in some foreign tongue, the sound of further explosions down the road, and the ground shaking. That was all until he had awoken here. Others brought with him insisted he had ate, slept, and shuffled along like a zombie for weeks as they made their way along the auction blocks, but Crix remembered none of it from the explosion until this morning. And precious little except the explosion itself. He could not remember the planet or his own name, only taking a nickname from another, and the information others suplied.

Overseers had caught him dreaming once, and that taught him to focus on the work. His mind might not know the task, but muscle memory did the tasks out of route routine. With surety, he chatted in whispers as he could to his neighboring slaves and slowly began to piece together what exactly had been happening. It seemed the first order of business was to get the hell out of these chains and off world, but how?

Brooke Waters | Skeevi Merrill | Marcus Dinn

 

[Skeevi Merrill]

NEARBY: Marcus Dinn Alcuin Rhunn
OTHER: Brooke Waters

A skeletal old Stennes, constantly drugged, did chores on his own chain. Buckets, primarily: in-buckets and out-buckets. Skeevi figured he was a Shifter from how he tended to vanish out the corner of their eye. They'd known a couple Stennes Shifters in the bad corners of Seven Corners. They tended to absorb or consume the Force energy given off by someone using it.

Nothing tastier for a Stennes Shifter than hanging around a Jedi, in theory. Problem was, the feeling wasn't mutual. The Jedi had committed genocide against the Stennes Shifters a few millennia back.

The old one here was probably feeding off the general vibes of the crafting processes, and partially concealing it from wandering Forcers. At least that was Skeevi's guess based on the occasional comment from him or a guard.

Shifters weren't known for collective efforts or easy trust. So when Skeevi spotted the old guy slipping slivers of bone into various people's hands — potential lockpicks or tiny weapons — Skeevi found themself just massively surprised.

 

[Marcus Dinn]

It came as a surprise to Marcus too when a tiny piece of sharpened bone was passed into his hand. He had to admit, not many of the other workers looked like they had much fight left in them. They sleepwalked like zombies, either under the influence of something or simply too tired and weak to resist. The Near-Human who gave him the bone had seemed no different, but Marcus certainly didn't mind having his assumptions proven wrong.

As the Shifter drew near, however, Marcus felt a prickling awareness through his numbed connection to the Force. It was faint, but distinct. Hunger. The being was feeding on him. Well. If that was what it took to have a strong ally, Marcus didn't mind that either.

At the end of the work day, he bowed his head in a show of submission, using the opportunity to get a closer look at the chain around his ankles. Alchemized. Did that mean the locks couldn't be picked? He glanced up to see if any of the guards were watching before he made an attempt.

Skeevi Merrill Alcuin Rhunn Brooke Waters​

 

[Skeevi Merrill]

Marcus Dinn Alcuin Rhunn Brooke Waters

The workshop was oppressive but gloomy, offering a measure of secrecy. In Skeevi's more unobserved moments, the shard of bone turned out to be half of a bond-tracker talisman. They knew hunters carried them: these talismans could give some indication of where a quarry's packmates might be. As Skeevi worked the scrimshawed bone into the lock of their shackles, the broken talisman warmed. Skeevi caught flickers of impressions when looking at the guards, just enough to know that there were other guards and co-conspirators in the area. Interesting but useless for the moment.

The lock clicked. Skeevi passed the broken talisman to the next person in line, an Ithorian in the ruins of Kyrikal priest robes. A lot of Ithorians were pacifists, but this one was big, a useful distraction in a breakout.

Maybe a quarter of an hour after the mournful-gazed Stennes Shifter first passed out the picks, someone couldn't wait any longer. To Skeevi's mild surprise it was the Ithorian. With a four-throated roar, he got up and lumbered for the exit. A neuronic whip slashed him but he kept moving. The whip's sizzle jolted Skeevi into action. Anyone unlocked by now got up, knees aching, and ran.

 

[Brooke Waters]

Brooke smiled as she followed the being inside. The Witch was more of a protector and this whole honey-pot style approach made her feel a bit more used. She knew it worked, but she definitely had her pike and knife and could fight all on her own. The other being was showing off their store rooms.

"But I am sure you would like to see more than just the store rooms. This way." He nodded and let her take the lead into the observation deck of another room. What she was not expecting the slavering that was clear. She took a second to fix and steel her features as she walked out.

"We keep our workers very secure. They do have their shift changes so that we can keep them fresh."

"And they're not paid?" The blonde asked.

"Of course not, that way we can pass our savings directly onto you." He gave a greasy smile as she nodded, looking thoughtful, less than her looking terrified or appalled. Watching the shift change, she could feel the Force change. They were definitely thinking something.

 

[Marcus Dinn]

Once the alchemical bindings around his ankles unlocked, the Force flowed back into Marcus in a euphoric surge. Lips pulled back in a grin, he glanced toward the guards, calculating what it would take to get rid of them. Judging by the movements of his fellow workers, they weren't going to tolerate their enslavement for much longer.

A woman passed by, apparently receiving a guided tour of the facility. She looked indifferent, but didn't feel happy about what she was seeing. Marcus made eye contact with her on his knees, wondering who she was and why she was here if she didn't approve of their operations.

Suddenly, an Ithorian worker roared and made a break for the door. Anyone else already free took his departure as a signal to get the hell out of dodge. Marcus got to his feet, only to feel the stinging crack of the taskmaster's shock whip across his shoulder blades. He grasped the whip, seizing the energy flowing through it and channeling it violently back through the arm of the taskmaster, wielding his own weapon against him. With a scream of pain, the slaver's heart ceased to beat.

Tossing the weapon away, he sprinted for the exit.

Skeevi Merrill Alcuin Rhunn Brooke Waters​

 

[Alcuin Rhunn]

With a coldness as the others rose that he wasn't aware he had, Crix rose, shackles falling. His eyes were hollow, almost dead like a fish as he advanced. With a fluidity and grace that would surprise his other captives, he hefted the makeshift lockpick and drove it straight into the stunned face of the one who had been showing off the prisoners like cattle. A spin and drop and the two droids were swept off rickety feet as he leaped like a crazed maniac, ripping a control node off the neck of one of the droids and spinning in a crouch, snarling and hissing not unlike an animal, eyes wide with hate at the metallic creature, who unleashed a bolt to the knee of Crix's left leg and then advanced towards the Ithorian causing mayhem.

Cursing, Crix fell clutching his leg and looking about for a weapon, settling on grabbing a length of chain and managing to pull it towards himself.

Brooke Waters | Marcus Dinn | Skeevi Merrill

 

[Skeevi Merrill]

Skeevi tore their eyes away from whatever Marcus Dinn had just done with the Force and focused on Alcuin Rhunn , who appeared to have a really good idea. These alchemical chains would make serious weapons.

The nearest available chain measured maybe five paces with that many sets of now-vacated shackles. Someone had taken down a guard or two for the keys in the chaos. Skeevi stumbled on a body — prisoner or guard — and gathered up the chain. It was heavier than they could easily use, but they found a whirling motion could send a yard or two of it at a guard in a fairly reliable way. Manacles thunked against flesh and armor.

A hush of sorts fell over the workshop. Those who'd run had run. Maybe half the prisoners were left, some elders included, and the only guards in sight were dead or well on their way.

Aching all over, Skeevi let the mass of chain thunk on the dirt floor.

Brooke Waters

 

[Brooke Waters]

The blonde nodded. Her hood up and hiding the white-blonde hair as she watched the slaver speak. They were not paid. The galaxy was a distant and dangerous place. She had an idea that the galaxy needed the Sanctum back. It was one reason she was out here, to do good and help those that were downtrodden and pushed to the brink of their own life. Her guards and the ships they came on couldn't save everyone but she did have people she could and would call.

A glance of her dark eyes to her guard and she tightened her eyes. They could all feel it. And when it moved. So did they.

The Jedi were warriors but did not need the Force to do what they needed to do. As the electro-whip and chains down below were being used against the enslavers, the Jedi moved in front of Brooke and a quick one-two broke the knee of the task master while the witch whispered a small spell shooting a bolt of electric energy to the battle droids, knocking them out.

Brooke stepped forward to the task master and waving her hand, blue energy followed her finger tips as she touched the being's temple.

"You will open the doors." It was going to be chaotic, but it was all that she could do.

"I will open the doors…" He said as the other Witch and the Jedi were going for their weapons, an Energy Bow and white lightsaber respectively. The task master moved his hand to the controls to free the doors.

But that also started the red lights and klaxons blinking.

Skeevi Merrill Alcuin Rhunn Marcus Dinn